Sweetly Sound the Bells
by BountyHuntress16
Summary: It's is hard to deny that magic and fairy stories exist, when a supernatural force is wreaking havoc upon your friend's wedding. Sarah may have to start believing again if she is to save the day. JxS COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Author Note: This is plot bunny that would not go away until I finished it

Author Note: This is plot bunny that would not go away until I finished it. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.

-

**Chapter 1**

When she had let herself imagine meeting Jareth again, the scene in her head had been quite different. She would be in one of her work outfits—a professional blazer and pencil skirt with her hair tied back. She would be sophisticated and intimidating. Not in a rose and cream gown that resembled the dress she had worn nine years before while reciting book passages in the park. Not with her hair, still styled but curling about her shoulders with the ribbons and flowers threaded through.

She did manage to lift her chin and meet his gaze even if he wasn't as awe-stricken as she would have liked. His face was suffering from split personality; his mouth grim and agitated, his eyes smirking and amused. She wanted to fold her arms but settled for leaving her hands unclenched at her side, giving no clue of the panic within her gut.

No fear. She needed a clear mind to watch her words and reclaim what was supposed to be a happy event. Of course, if she really wanted to be a stickler about words then she should have never uttered "I wish…" in the first place.

-

Cathy came from an Irish family and had an affinity for fairy tales, renaissance fairs and everything Sarah had put away nine years prior. Glen was Scottish, Russian, German and Swedish with a closet comic book habit, owned a bookstore/coffee shop and had met Cathy at a Renaissance fair; she dressed as a tavern wench and he in a shirt that said "Mr. Darcy is My Homeboy". It was the only case of love at first sight Sarah thought valid.

The wedding was so hodgepodge that no one theme could be tacked onto it. In her mind, Sarah had titled it the "Festival of Geek Love" in her head. The men would be in kilts, the women in renaissance-inspired dresses, the flower girls would wear Sailor Moon-esque dresses and at the end they would blow bubbles and throw rose petals like a shoujo manga. The reception would be in a hotel ballroom and the wedding cake would have figures of the bride and groom in capes and spandex, posed to fly into the sky together.

Surprisingly, nothing had gone wrong yet. Cathy had gone through her ritual of puking when nervous before she changed into her elaborate corseted wedding dress and her mother was too preoccupied with the bridal party to make her daughter anxious. The only thing that stood out was when the photographer had come early and asked Sarah if she were going to change into the wedding dress soon. But that was a mistake usually made—the two friends had the same pale skin and dark hair and were roughly the same height. It made Sarah wonder if the photographer was that good if she couldn't recognize her client's prominent freckles, dark eyes or long, long hair. Too late now. The important thing was making sure nothing went wrong with the bride.

"I can't believe it," Cathy whispered as she fiddled with her billowing sleeves. Sarah watched critically as the hairdresser friend of Mrs. O'Dell (Cathy's mother) twisted Cathy's hair into an elegant knot. "I feel like I should wake up, you know? This is-is-it's a storybook wedding, Glen is my Prince and…Sarah?"

"Are the flowers and ribbons in the veil already? Because we don't have time to do it now."

"Sarah!" Cathy flailed her arms like a flustered hen, nearly disturbing the precarious operation of dressing such thick hair. "I know you're the most unromantic person in the free world but please try to listen."

"Just the free world?"

Cathy rolled her eyes and sat still again as the hairdresser continued. "I wouldn't feel so sappy if you would listen and nod encouragingly."

"You are sappy." Sarah stepped over and fixed the folds of the sleeve. "Glen isn't much of a Prince but I think you'll live."

"You never read fairy tales when you were a kid, did you?"

"No," Sarah repeated the lie of her new life. "Never was much for them."

For a second, the barest second, she sword she heard a muffled chorus of snickers. She chewed her lips, avoided looking in the mirror and spoke as if she weren't crazy.

"And Glen's much better than a prince. Because he's real and he's going to make you happy. And I bet he's much more nervous right now then you are."

"Why's that?"

"Because he has no idea if you're coming out in a period dress or spandex." This finally coaxed a smile onto the woman's face. She threw her arms around Sarah and hugged tightly, succeeding at undoing all that the hairdresser had done. The older woman pursed her lips and stabbed a carmine fingernail towards Sarah. "Go get into your dress, I'll be doing your hair next."

Sarah winked at Cathy and retreated to the living room where the dresses were hanging and Mrs. O'Dell was fluffing the flower girls' pleated skirts. Glad for the diversion she snatched her gown and sought out a place to change. Mrs. O'Dell was an eternal mother who would spend a long time fussing over Sarah when she needed to be commandeering the bridesmaids and making sure Cathy did not eat until she was nerve-free. She changed quickly, glancing at the mirror in the tiny room only after she was done.

The woman in the reflection was not her. Maybe it was because she avoided mirrors in general for fear of seeing what she had sworn was not real. Or it could have been as simple as the dress that was just a fancy, adult version of childhood costumes. She smoothed her hands over the pink folds, tracing where the sweet color met with the white fabric. She liked how the bell sleeves swung with her movements and how the matching flats didn't have uncomfortable heels and made her feet delicate like a ballerina's. The woman in the mirror seemed to like it all too but did that necessarily make them the same?

Staring at her fantasy self, Sarah got a bad feeling. It wasn't hair standing on the back of her neck or her gut twisting or any related symptom. It was just that—a bad feeling. Nerves, she told herself. And her biological clock. She was twenty-five, her friends were getting married, she was single…yes, that was it. She peered closer into the mirror to prove she wasn't insane and studied her face. Well this was more like her. Her eyes were the same color as the girl staring back.

And out of the corner of these eyes…there was a glimmer and the sound of the wind in her ears but no windows. Of course. The moment she put this dress on she began the breakdown that had been coming for years. It just wasn't fai-no, she wouldn't say it. She turned away from the mirror as if spurning a lover and marched back to the hairdresser. She missed the pairs of silver eyes whispering out of the walls.

-

If anything was going to go wrong then it would have happened during the ceremony. As it was, the worst thing that happened was one of the flower girls had forgotten that she wasn't supposed to throw her flowers, just carry them. Halfway through she took her sister's whispers for her to stop as cue to dump the lot of them in a pile and keep walking. Thankfully no one tripped on it and the guests just chuckled and looked on adoringly. Glen was shifting awkwardly when Sarah walked down the aisle but he stopped completely as soon as his bride appeared.

Cathy was beautiful and there was no other way to describe it. No other sight could diminish her. Emotion welled up into Sarah's throat and she had to fight to keep a straight face. Her hands were shaking slightly when she took the bride's bouquet and repeated the motion later on when she handed off the ring. And when Glen swept her into his kiss, she couldn't hold back the sniff. Even she could be melted by, dare she admit it, a fairy tale wedding.

The guests blew bubbles and threw flower petals while the Superman theme blared from the speakers as the couple ran down the aisle, laughing and stealing quick kisses. The wedding party followed and they gathered in a massive hug outside the church. Sarah got an unfortunate view of the Best Man's kilt fluttering a little too high in the wind but forgot about it by focusing on the couple's happy faces and helping Mrs. O'Dell arrange everyone into a receiving line.

Friends, families and strangers flooded through until the handshake or hug with the "Thank you for coming how are you oh yes it was beautiful" became an involuntary response. Sarah only knew Cathy's family and the mutual friends they shared so really, there wasn't much else to say to everyone but the usual and then hand them over to the two bridesmaids. She glanced at the nearest one, a petite blonde named Jenny who Cathy had roomed with college. She was making eyes at an attractive man shaking Glen's hand.

Jenny caught her looking and waggled her eyebrows in the man's direction. Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile back—he was exceptionally handsome even if a little too dark-haired for Sarah's taste. The man made their way over to her and offered a hand, his smile obscenely dazzling and almost assaulting.

"Thank you for coming," she said as they shook hands. His fingers weren't exactly icy but they were cool to the touch.

"It was a beautiful wedding," he replied. "I-" His eyes slightly widened and he looked down. "Did you just step on my foot?"

"No—I don't think so." Odd. She glanced down quickly and for a second thought she was tiny feet dashing away and a helmet with horns-

"Must be a twitch, It was nice meeting you," and the man moved on to Jenny who looked ready to scream and jump around excitedly like a groupie at a rock concert. Sarah peeked back down at the ground, reasoning that the sun was playing with the shadows and her mind. And no other tricks occurred as the guests finished their felicitations and began to pile into cars to go to the reception. Glen scooped his bride into his arms and carried her to the horse drawn carriage waiting. The horses, appropriately white and black, stomped their hooves and swished their tails. Sarah turned from the sight to usher the rest of the party to the limo, missing the tiny bodies slipping into the back of the carriage.

-

Through the first dance, speeches told and hugs unnumbered the reception was just as smooth. Now Cathy was trying to convince Glen to eat something, revealing a matriarchal streak inherited from her mother. Glen professed to being too excited to eat and Sarah wondered if it was anything like what she was feeling. Eating right then just didn't seem appetizing.

She pushed the salad around her plate, jumping when a cell phone ring cut through. Jerry, Glen's best friend, best man and business partner fished his thin phone out of his sporran. He smiled apologetically at her and it was admittedly adorable. She was about to smile back but his face darkened at whatever he was hearing on the phone, a nerve appearing in his jaw and thrumming wildly.

"Glen," he said, fingers white around the phone

The groom turned just as Cathy was about to feed him a spoonful of mashed red potatoes, getting some into his red-gold beard. "What's up?"

"Someone broke into the shop."

Glen swore but didn't immediately bolt out of his seat like Sarah expected him to. He was looking between his friend and his wife and then shook his head. "I can't go I-"

"Glen, go." Cathy ordered, wiping the potatoes molecules out of his hair.

"Cathy it's our reception-"

"Glen it's okay. Really. I know you want to stay and that's enough."

He pulled her to him and kissed her softly then darted away with Jerry. Sarah took Glen's seat and hugged her friend tightly. "Bet you he's back within the hour."

She smiled. "You know, you've been very optimistic today. Careful, you'll ruin your reputation."

"I think I'll salvage it. Besides, it's the atmosphere, not anything personal."

"Frick. For a second I thought I might have you believing in a Prince just for you."

"I can't say I'm into the Prince type."

"I don't even know what your type is. Now if you'll excuse me, I want some more food." She stood up, the giant skirt swirling around and nearly knocking her maid of honor out of her chair. Sarah scraped her plate again, contemplating the food but felt like she had indigestion even though the day's diet had consisted of toast in the morning and a few glasses of water.

Maybe she had just known instinctively that something bad was going to happen. Just like Glen had. Not that she could explain exactly why but there was surely a psychological explanation about collective memory. Or just one of those random freak events. Surely she could believe in those because she didn't have to explain them. And the only reason the feeling remained was her shock that such a thing could have happened.

The DJ put on music that was probably from one of the Renaissance fairs. Something with a lute and strings that was dreamy and soft. Most of the guests were getting up to dance, their expressions just as soft as the song. The quiet was a tad eerie however—everyone was gazing into their partner's eyes. But they were good dancers and…

Her touchy stomach felt as if she had swallowed a cement block. She looked down at the salad and fruit mixed about the white china and could only see green maggots writhing across the platter. She shoved it away, not meaning for it to fall but it did and shattered across the floor. The food rolled everywhere and the dancers stepped onto them and over it. No one had turned at the noise. Jenny had taken off her shoes and now stepped onto the shards but did not flinch.

"…No…" She stood, slowly, hands shaking and backed away from the table and into the hallway leading out of the ballroom, then into the room on the side, slamming the door behind her. She was having a psychotic breakdown. Yes. She was going to wake up in a hospital bed and be told that she had passed out right after the ceremony. Hopefully she would just wake up on the floor of this tiny chamber before anyone discovered her.

The curtains in the room fluttered and she saw tiny feet sticking out at the bottom. Hands trembling and not at all showing the control she wanted them to, she reached for the curtain and yanked it back.

A tiny creature with a pug face and horned helmet blinked beady red eyes at her, offering a gap-toothed smile. She stumbled back. No. None of that had been real—but now there was an enchanted ballroom and a goblin staring up at her whose brethren had flickered throughout the day and all of this could only be the work of one person. Why he was doing this—if he did in fact exist—she did not know but she would find out.

And if she was right and he did not have responsibility or exist, then she had nothing to lose except her sanity.

"I wish…" She looked up and closed her eyes. "I wish the Goblin King would come and help me fix this."

She opened her eyes slowly and saw floating curtains. Nothing more. She was certifiable. Flexing her hands to relax them, she reached for the door and opened it-

-and met with a figure in a billowing gray shirt and black leather pants, blue eyes smirking and mouth rigid.

"Hello Sarah,"


	2. Chapter 2

And that was how she found herself standing in front of a man in an outfit that did nothing to show that she had put him and he

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth

Author Note: Thank you for the favorites and reviews. I've only posted oneshots before so it's nice to be able to actually say thank you. This chapter takes a from various wedding traditions and such, especially Irish because the general opinion is that Jareth is some type of fae. Enjoy.

-

And that was how she found herself standing in front of a man in an outfit that did nothing to show that she had put him and her daydreams long behind her.

"Well? How do you expect me to help you 'fix this'?" He drawled as if they hadn't parted nine years ago under poor circumstances. The perpetual wind in the room blew his tangle of hair into his face like a veil.

"You know how," she replied. _Adult, adult, adult_ she chanted inwardly. "This is your handiwork and I am not going to stand for it."

He stepped into the room now and she took a step back, then thought better of it and stepped to the side to let him pass. The hardness in his mouth had spread to his eyes and he glanced sideways at her. "Yes Sarah, every occurrence of mischief is my doing. There are no other magical beings in this world."

She ignored how his voice deepened with sarcasm. "I saw your goblins. And I was the only one who didn't eat and the only one not stuck in an enchanted ballroom dance."

"So sorry to ruin your expectations of me, Sarah." He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. The goblin at his feet took a few steps back immediately out of kicking range. "Though I am somewhat appreciative that you finally called on me and it refreshing to see you in something other than your stiff business suits."

"What?" The exclamation escaped before she could shave off the roughness and control it. "Have you been watching me?"

He didn't respond at first but held up one finger, a crystal materializing at the tip. It rolled along his fingers before showing a perfect albeit small image of her office. "Easy as it was for you to deny your memory, I did not have it quite so easy. Forgive me for deigning myself to wonder about you from time to time."

"You say it as if I've committed a crime."

"Haven't you? No, don't reply. I believe I am now bound to help you repair this mess and I would like to be done with that as soon as I could."

_Control Sarah. Get your control back._ "If isn't you, and I don't believe you yet-" His eyes flashed. "-then who is it?"

"If someone had been wished away, they would be gone already. Think Sarah—what other beings can enchant people with food?"

"I don't know, Goblin King. I haven't thought about those things in a long time."

"Yes you do. You remember."

"How are you so sure? If you really have been watching then you know that I haven't picked up a fairy story in years."

"You remember because you consumed those stories when you were younger. And you've already answered your question."

"What do you mean? I-…fairy stories. You mean these are fairies at work? Like the ones outside the Labyrinth who bit?" When he didn't respond she turned the thought over a few times. "Or…you mean the ones who are human-like. Irish fairies."

"Very good. And what do fairies do to humans?"

"I don't appreciate you patronizing me when you could just tell me. You're toying with me."

"It's a hobby of mine," and his tone was a shade too suggestive. "And I imagine you trust answers you come up with far more than mine. What do fairies do to humans?"

"Play tricks on them? And steal children away and leave changelings." She cut her eyes at him. "You're not giving me much faith in you."

"I only take those wished away. Fairies live by their whims and take whatever human they deem talented or beautiful enough. And they love to hover around weddings."

And then it came to her but surprisingly, not from her childhood but from a website link Cathy had sent her about Irish wedding traditions. Half of them had been about this very subject and she had skipped over them. Concentrating, she could summon the website, green with pastel flowers and obligatory Celtic knots, typeface some thin italic thing…

"Fairies…like to steal brides. Because they're the most beautiful when-Cathy!" She picked up her skirts and ran for the door, not expecting him to grip her arm and nearly knock her off of her feet. She could feel heat through the leather glove, cursing that he had chose to touch the half of her arm not in pink fabric. Not that he should affect her so in the first place. "Let me go."

"Do you even have a plan?" He smirked as if he couldn't help it.

"If this ends up going badly for me, I can't see why you would complain."

His fingers tightened around her, teetering on the edge of inflicting pain. Swiftly he twirled her to face him directly, keeping her arm suspended in the air between them. "You have bound me to helping you. And I always grant someone's wishes." Any trace of mirth had left him and the way he looked at her dissolved away nine years of her life. She pulled away but he kept her in place, forcing her to look at him. If he had any purpose, she did not discover it. Within a few moments he let her go.

"The faeries will not be so generous as I was," he went on, resuming a casual pose against the wall. "If you lose her, there will be no second chance."

"If you have an idea then say it. We don't have the time."

He smiled and his teeth glimmered in the light.

-

For the past ten moths, Sarah had been scouring old wedding traditions with Cathy. The wedding was such a jumble of themes that the bride hadn't cared from what culture the customs originated.

The Romans started the tradition of bridesmaids for witnesses as well as protection. Typically the bridesmaids would dress alike to the bride so that evil spirits would not know who was getting married.

The Irish placed precautions upon weddings, making the couple eat three spoonfuls of salted oatmeal each and having them swear not to let the bride have both feet in the air while dancing lest she be taken away.

The Goblin King's precautions were of the spirit of these customs but completely his creation. He reordered time to just as the dance was happening and magicked Sarah into a dress like Cathy's with her hair also in a knot and sent her in to the ballroom. He found the bride and engaged her in a sedate waltz, dressed nondescriptly so the villain at work would not spot him.

Sarah meandered through the crowds, willing herself not to look for him as she had done in a ballroom long ago, but for the fairy responsible. Entranced bodies formed a wall that she had to squeeze through. A deep cold spidered in her belly when none of the dancers responded to her pushing. Her shoulder crushed into Mrs. O'Dell's and the woman did not immediately start fussing, asking if she was all right. She just stared back at Mr. O'Dell, rotating in a circle with eyes that held no light and seemed to be trapped beneath a veil.

She had to look for someone not spellbound. She would rather be in her office, going over proofs and combating with her boss over which designs would suit the client. For all her show in the side room, Sarah feared she had long lost her courage. She wondered if Jar-if the Goblin King was disappointed, how much she had fallen. She shook her head violently. His opinion did not matter and who was to say she had fallen? Wasn't it better to move on and grow?

_Grow up, yes. But that doesn't mean shutting away the adventure and the friends who made you who you are._

Sarah rubbed at the gauntlets covering her arms, wrists and hands, shutting her eyes as if not seeing would clear her mind. All it did was leave her vulnerable for a hand to touch her shoulder, spinning her slightly.

It was the exceptionally handsome man that Jenny had ogled and who, she realized, a Goblin had stepped on to keep him away from her. Of course—every remarkable man she met ended up being non-human. His silver eyes raked over her in a fashion that was unmistakably predatory and she did her best to stare back as if she too had eaten the fairy food. Oh please don't let my acting skills be so rusty as to fall short, she prayed.

"May I have this dance?" He murmured, hand trailing down her arm to her hand, leaving a trail of ill feeling. Like cobwebs and seaweed. She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes wide but lowered in case he had picked up the differences between her and Cathy that others did not. She slid one hand onto his shoulder, tried not to flinch as his palm fitted to the curve of her waist. His mouth curved to one side and he jerked his head to the other dancers. The parted and formed a circle for them to dance in, heads turned to gaze upon the couple. She focused on his open collar and his jawbone, wondering what to do now that Cathy was safe. She had no desire to be whisked away, doubting there would be someone to win her back. She refused to believe the Goblin king would.

"You are very beautiful," he murmured, touching her chin. What had broken the ballroom spell before?

"Thank you," she murmured. She had been dancing with Jar-with the Goblin King, unable to look away from his eyes and the soft way his lips formed the lyrics of the song. If this fairy started singing to her, she doubted it would be just as magnetizing. And then…

"I could make sure that you stay this beautiful forever, little bride." His lips bent down to her ear and his scent—a heavy but not unpleasant perfume of poppies and chamomile—flooded her senses. Her hand was curling from his shoulder unbidden to touch his dark curls.

_Think. Concentrate._ She had been dancing with the Goblin King and then she noticed how the other ballroom dancers were laughing at her and how easily she had succumbed to the king's advances. That wasn't going to happen with this zombie-like crowd, though seeing Jenny's usually lively face as a hollow shell jolted her from the raptures of the fairy's hair and smell.

"Beautiful forever?" She repeated.

"Yes…I would keep you always." He leaned in just as the Goblin king had. And then…yes. Back then the clock had struck and alerted her of the need to escape, to continue on with her quest—though at the time she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do. Would a clock break the spell over everyone? Or did it only work on the enchanter's target?

"I…" She needed time. There was something Cathy had read from that website. It was important. "If…If I go with you, will you give me everything I've ever wanted?"

He smiled, his nose almost touching hers. His thick curls were tickling her forehead and his other hand was sliding down to her waist. Panic rose inside of her.

"I am willing to give you your wildest dreams," he chuckled. His skin was terribly cold and so pale, almost translucent. But not disgusting. It was just a type of beauty she could not comprehend with such human eyes. Her hand reached for his cheek and she barely stopped herself.

"If I loved you, you would be my slave?"

"_Couples pass out bells to ring to ward off evil sprits and remind couples of their wedding vows in case they are fighting, declaring a truce without one person taking the blame. We should do that too. Glen would think it's neat."_

"Your slave?" He chuckled. "Certainly, anything for you, little bride. All it will take is a leap of faith." He bent his knees slightly, grip tight on her waist.

_The groom should not lift his bride into the air so that both feet leave the ground or the fairies could take her away._

Her eyes widened and she planted two hands on his shoulders, pushing at him. He faltered for a moment, not expecting such violence. But his grip was strong and he began to lift her as they danced-

"I wish the Goblin King would give me bells right now!"

Ghastly fingers gripped at her legs as the fairy man kept her in the air but stared at her, not quite believing what she had cried out. They both looked to her right hand where two bells had materialized. Her legs kicked, her left arm gripped his sleeve to keep her from being taken and her right hand jangled the bells harshly.

The beautiful face turned ugly and snarling, the veins clearly throbbing against the transparent skin. He smacked the back of his hand against hers, sending the bells soaring into the air. He clawed at the hand holding onto him, nails digging into her skin. She gritted her teeth and held fast, crying as the spirits gripping her legs came back now that the bells had stopped.

"You will be _my_ slave for this," the fairy man growled, one hand stopping its struggles to pull a long dirk from nowhere. Just a dirk, nothing more. But her fingers began to slacken, afraid of that blade slicing down onto her wrist so that she was taken away, maimed. If she was to be lost either way-

The sound of a bell cut through the roar and both she and the fairy man turned to see the bell in the hands of the Goblin King, free of his disguise, great and terrible. He continued ringing. There were horrible screams coming behind her and the beautiful man before her was floating into nothing and she was falling…

…and landing in the arms of the King.

There was a gentle murmur, indicating that the guests were coming alive. Sarah felt him shift her and reflexively grabbed his shoulder for support. The sleeve in front of her was pink, not white. He made a noise between a grunt and a groan as he set her on her feet. She avoided his eyes, wondering what he thought now.

Now that she had used his own words to aid her fight.


	3. Chapter 3

She was back in the pink dress but she was dancing again, with an eerily normal-looking Goblin King in a black suit and much sh

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth

AN: well here's the conclusion. Thank you for all the favorites and the nice reviews. The Labyrinth fanfic community has been very nice.

-

She was back in the pink dress but she was dancing again, with an eerily normal-looking Goblin King in a black suit and much shorter hair. Neither had said much and Sarah wondered why he had not simply left when the spell was broken instead of instantly whisking her onto the dance floor.

"You know," he said after awhile. "I believe the line after the slave one was 'You have no power over me'"

She flinched slightly and looked away, which brought her gaze to Cathys who was silently asking her who the man was. She turned the other way to meet the same scrutiny from Mrs. O'Dell. Could she never win?

"So, you do remember those days and believe in them," He smirked. "Tell me, precious thing, why use my lines instead of yours? They worked so well last time."

"He wasn't the Goblin King," she replied. Softly she added, "And…I had to remind myself of that."

"Really now? And why is that?"

"You always know the answers, surely you know."

"You're taking it for granted that I do. "

She sighed. "Because if I went with him but refused you, that would mean my standards had lowered."

"And?"

"And nothing. Things are sometimes exactly what they seem."

He loosed one hand and placed it on her cheek. Something kept her from wrenching away, even as his lips bent forward past her face and to her ear. They weren't touching her but she could feel his breath and their presence. "In my experience, nothing is."

She swallowed and willed herself not to be such a schoolgirl around him. He shouldn't have this type of effect on her, even if his memory had been one of the harder to erase. She touched his shoulder and pushed for more distance between them. "Because he was using some kind of enchantment or—I don't know. But I almost succumbed a few times. And I knew if I got a reaction from him with those words, he wouldn't be as sincere….be sincere."

He smirked at her and his fingers stroked her temple. She cleared her throat. "Why were their goblins here? Did you know this would happen?"

"My goblins never stopped following you, even when you stopped believing in them. Which is lucky because they made you believe I was the one responsible and gave you the means to save the day."

"So if you had known, could you have stepped in earlier and taken care of the mess?"

"I could have, maybe. But what says I would have? I should hate you for what you did to me."

"I thought things weren't always what they seemed."

He blinked and then lifted an eyebrow at her. She continued on. "You don't hate me. Not the slightest."

"Careful precious, you just started believing again. Do you really want to have this conversation now?"

"I-"

"Sarah!" A white-clothed arm grabbed her pink bell sleeve. Cathy stood before her, eyes wide. Glen trailed behind her, recently returned from the store. (Nothing had been stolen and there was minimal damage. Sarah suspected that the fairies had done it to get rid of him when he didn't eat their enchanted food.)

"Who is your friend?"

"Oh uh-this is-this is-" She sighed slightly. "This is Jareth. Jareth Smith."

Glen tugged at Cathy's sleeve. "Cathy, I though you said we were going to get ready to go.""

"Shh," she turned to Jareth. "It's nice to meet you. May I steal Sarah for a moment?"

He chuckled. "Why of course. Lovely wedding by the way."

"Well thank you for coming." Cathy dragged Sarah out of the dance floor to the outer rim of the ballroom, risking pulling her arm out of its socket.

"Who is that Sarah? I'm going to overlook the fact that you might have snuck a date into my wedding reception if you spill right now."

She wanted to protest but she had basically done just as she was accused. And Cathy had that look in her eye that said she would never escape. Not even if she said her right words.

"He's an old friend, that's all. I guess you could say we had something but I wouldn't classify it as anything."

"What? Sarah, that man looks like a prince. You can't tell me you haven't considered starting something with him."

"Cathy," said Glen, "Can we please head out? Sarah will be here to question when we get back."

"Shush Glen."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "He is most certainly not a prince."

"You know what I mean. Just because you never read fairy tales when you were a kid-"

"Actually," Sarah shivered at the voice by her ear and the sudden pressure against her back and shoulder. "From what I remember, Sarah didn't read anything _but_ fairy stories until she was fifteen." He smirked and stepped to her side, hand pressing into the small of her back. "But she is right, I think I'm more of a king type than a prince."

"You-" Sarah began.

"Much as you'd like to avoid it, I do have a name."

Cathy's jaw opened, closed and repeated the loop for a few moments. It would have been hilarious if not for the threat of interrogation following the show. Her arms flailed up and down like a pigeon. "Sarah I cannot believe that you never told me. I mean—sorry if this makes you uncomfortable Jareth—but this man is the best looking guy I have ever seen around you and you never-"

"Cath!" Glen grabbed her arm and crushed her to him. "Look, I know you want details but I've been waiting for twenty-five years for a honeymoon and four years to have it with you and if I have to stay a virgin any longer I think I'll cry. Can we go please?"

For a moment, the group was silent. Then amazingly, Cathy turned pink and giggled. "Alright, alright. But Sarah, we have a lot to talk about when I get back."

"I think I'll be out of the country when you come back."

"Oh shush." The two girls hugged and then Glen dragged her away. Sarah watched them with a small sigh, smiling.

"Your friend had a good idea," the voice was back next to her and the hand upon her again.

She spun around. "What do you mean?" If he was suggesting that they-

"We too, have a lot to talk about." His touched her hair and plucked out a pink rosebud, twirling it between his fingertips. "And for starters, I'd like to hear you say my name again."

"Goblin King," she chanted, resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him.

"That is not what I meant."

"Why are you still here?" Distracting him was probably futile but she would do it anyway. "We fixed everything."

"On the contrary, sweet Sarah. You only said to 'fix this'. You never quite specified. And I believe there is much between us to fix."

"You're twisting my words."

"What's said is said. And life's not fair. And you know the list. What I would like is some new dialogue. Starting with my name."

"We're not going to work everything out in a night. I have old friends to apologize to and things to think about and mirrors to buy and-"

"Then start small." He began to remove his gloves slowly, as if contemplating each tug of the fingers. Once they were eliminated he extended his bared fingers,

"It's just a hand, nothing more," he said with a smile.

"I thought we were moving onto new dialogue," she frowned up at him.

"It is up to you to start."

She squinted, looking for hints of malice and found just a man she had long ago rejected willing to try again. A man who made her think about the past and had stolen her brother but had saved her friend and her and…

Sarah placed her hand in his. It was warm. "Truce, Jareth?"

He lifted her hand to his lips. "Your wish is my command, Sarah."

-

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One day I will write an Evil Jareth. He always seems to turn out fluffy when I get a hold of him. That'll be my next fanfic goal. Or at least, a dangerous Jareth.

He's just so much sexier that way.


End file.
